


Expecto Ancora

by raevenly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Patronus Charm (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raevenly/pseuds/raevenly
Summary: For those who cannot always find their happy thoughts, the Ancorus spell is a jarred light in the darkness, stored up in better times for later use. The theme is fairly dark (obviously), but hopefully ends on a high note.
Kudos: 1





	Expecto Ancora

**Author's Note:**

> Started this on tumblr, wanted to expand on it a little bit more.

It always seems worst when the days are shortest.

With the Yule Ball, holiday break, and ever reason to celebrate behind you, the bleak stretch of winter seems long and impossible. A new year where nothing changes, a new semester where all the progress of fall seems lost, a blanket of clouds to block out what little bit of sun there ever is--

You should be heading to Potions or DADA. You should be writing that essay for Sprout. But you can't face the thought of that dank dungeon, and you can't find the point in another lab where you'll fail to produce event the faintest glow of a Patronus. Expecto the same shit, different day.

So you climb into your bed, pulling the curtains tight, and stare up at the ceiling.

You're almost surprised to find the ancora bottle in your hands. You hold it out at arm's length, staring at it without seeing it, watching that little sliver of light swirl around the bottle. It’s such a small thing, you think, like a star glimpsed through the clouds. You’ve used one before; you know the light will spill out, coalescing into some small fluffy form you can cuddle for comfort, or chase around outside in the courtyard, or lay on your chest and press all the hurt down into something small and manageable--

But you don’t open it.

You know you should. You know you’ll feel better once you do, but somehow... you just can’t. Your reasons why don’t fully form--you don’t actually think “I don’t deserve it,” “Its a waste of time,” “It won’t make any difference”--but they’re all there, circling around the edge of the darkness, like beasts held back by campfire light.

You stare at the spell bottle, and it winks at you, the silver glow swirling somehow into a smile.

I’m here, it whispers, I am holding back the dark. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, I’m here.

Your throat tightens, and you grit your teeth against tears. You would almost cry, just to feel something, but even that seems like too much effort. A waste. The spell jumps, giving a little twist like a leaping rabbit.

You hate it, just a little. Or maybe a lot. Maybe you think about throwing it against the wall, smashing the stupid spell, crushing it in your palms in a sharp release--

But this spell doesn’t work like that. Nothing can break the bottle--and you know, you have tried. It can only be opened.

You hate that you have to take that one last step. What’s the point of a safety net spell if it doesn’t just activate for you? Why have a stupid spell if it won’t just erase the bad things, keep them from happening? You almost put it on the shelf again, forget the whole thing--but that would require getting up. So you just lay there, watching the spell swirl.

Eventually, you feel better. Or maybe you get just too tired to feel this bad. Either way, you’re ready to open the bottle. You don’t remember why you didn’t do it earlier, but it doesn’t really matter. You do it now, and the light you stored up on a better day comes back to you now, glad to be able to return. It loves you, because it is you, on a day when things didn’t feel so bad. It’s everything you love about yourself that you just couldn’t seem to remember. That’s okay. That’s why it’s here. You open the bottle and return to yourself the love and strength you stored up before, knowing it would be there when you needed it. Trusting yourself to trust yourself, believing that no matter how dark it seemed, you’d open the bottle.

Maybe some day you won’t. Maybe someday, you won't make a new one when you've used the last one up. But today, you open the bottle, and all that love and light and warmth comes pouring out, and you remember that you are loved, and that the most important person of all believes in you. Past you believed in Today you, and Today you will survive this to become Future you.

It doesn't seem like much, but the little creature that pours from the bottle is a comforting weight on your chest. You don't open your eyes--the effort of looking into that light seems like too much today--but you cup your hands around the small form, feeling its warmth, feeling its heartbeat. Knowing that once upon a time you felt good, and believing that tomorrow will hold this kind of light again.


End file.
